


Sine Qua Non

by Singerdiva01



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 14:04:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1269127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singerdiva01/pseuds/Singerdiva01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the "swapping" challenge over at bsg_kink. Prompt here was "Laura is Helena's Sine Qua Non."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sine Qua Non

Helena Cain had never been the type of partner who offered her lovers massages. It was just one of the many things about herself that had changed since she found the Galactica and fell head over heels in love with Laura Roslin.

Her chest had clenched in a way that was becoming all too familiar when she’d entered the president’s quarters and found her lying listless and pale in her cot, staring at some unknown point on the wall. Helena had made her tea with chamalla and eventually coaxed her lover into admitting that it was her head, tonight, causing the ever present pain.

That’s how the president ended up nestled against the Admiral’s chest, sighing contentedly as the younger woman ran her fingers through her hair and pressed just hard enough on neck muscles hidden underneath the blue silk fabric of her robe.

Helena smiled as she fingered the material. Before Laura Roslin, she’d never been with a woman who wore such frilly, silly garments to bed. She usually ordered them to wear nothing at all. That was another huge change, one that continually challenged her sense of herself as a woman, a lesbian, and even as a leader. Laura insisted sex between them be equal or not at all; she didn’t refuse to follow orders, if they suited her, but she insisted on giving them as well. Helena shivered slightly at the memory of clutching the wood of the presidential desk and screaming to the Gods as Laura frakked her from behind with her own strap-on, ordering her to come over and over again.

That was before, of course, in those few precious weeks before the cancer stole Laura’s strength and left her with barely enough energy at the end of the day to lift her head. Not for the first time, Helena closed her eyes against a rush of tears. Laura’s Gods were more cruel than she’d ever imagined, allowing her to meet the woman who consumed her every thought and filled a heart she’d almost deemed irrevocably hardened and then ripping her away so quickly. She’d never even believed in the Gods until she met her fiery haired prophet. She believed now because it was the only way she didn’t crack apart completely; Pythia’s servant would no doubt be delivered to the Shore and Helena held on the hope that one day they might get their second chance.

Helena opened her eyes when she realized Laura’s hums had morphed into those little noises she made when she got aroused. She leaned down and kissed Laura’s temple and then cheek before gently nipping her lover’s earlobe. The older woman didn’t respond and Helena knew she was having one of her chamalla induced visions, though not exactly the holy kind. The drug that was supposedly helping her lead the fleet to earth also made her horny.

“Whatcha see?” She whispered softly in Laura’s ear, careful not to scare her in case she was really out of it.

Laura’s green eyes fluttered open and both embarrassment and guilt flashed across them. She refused to tease Helena by talking about sex when they both knew she wasn’t well enough to follow through.

“It’s alright, darling. I want to know every thought that flits through that beautiful brain of yours.”

Laura giggled at the earnest declaration.

“I’m not that high-minded when I’m high. I was imagining you between my legs.”

Much to her surprise, a sharp jolt of arousal flashed through Laura’s abdomen and traveled lower. She shivered slightly at the unexpected sensation.

Helena took notice and fixed the president with a look.

“Are you up for it, Laura?”

Laura looked away. She thought she might be but she knew she could never reciprocate. Helena read her thoughts via her expression.

“If you think your body can handle it, I want to do it. Gods, I want to taste you again.”

One last time, both thought but neither said.

Laura nodded, blinking back tears, and the Admiral shifted ever so carefully from underneath her frail lover and helped her settle back into a semi sitting position on a stack of pillows. She handed the president her glasses with a sly smile, knowing she liked to watch.

She began ever so slowly, trailing kisses up one pale thigh and down the other. She traced each familiar mole with her tongue before running it slowly and gently between the folds. She memorized the terrain like she would a mission map, vowing never to forget how her goddess’ skin curved or how her bud throbbed a shade of pink that reminded her of cherry lemonade.

Laura moaned and Helena looked up to make sure it was in pleasure. She smiled when Laura met her eye while simultaneously bucking her hips, an unspoken order to get back on task.

It took a bit longer than it had before but the Admiral luxuriated in her mission, speeding up and slowing down and otherwise deploying every trick in the book to make Laura’s pleasure last as long as possible. Finally, though, it was too much.

“Oh, for frak’s sake, put something inside me and make me come!”

Laura’s demand was more of a desperate moan. Her head was thrown back and she’d wrapped her fingers tightly around Helena’s head and was forcing it up and down at a dizzying pace. Helena stuck her tongue inside and flicked pointedly, knowing it wasn’t enough but unable to resist teasing her partner a little more.

“Please, Helena,” the president whined, wriggling her hips again.

The younger woman obliged, inserting one and then two fingers and thrusting in a come hither motion. She found the soft spongy spot and pressed. Laura’s muscles began to contract around the digits and the Admiral looked up to watch her lover come apart.

Laura rode through the aftershocks, head thrown back, soft moans filling the room. Helena smiled proudly. It never got old or failed to make her wet, frakking the president into convulsions.

But her joy was short-lived when she realized Laura’s gasps weren’t slowing but had instead taken on a more desperate tone. She moved quickly to take Laura in her arms, eyes wide when she saw the frightened look on her girlfriend’s face.

“It’s alright,” Laura gasped, forever trying to be reassuring. “Need to catch my breath.”

Helena held her, drawing soothing circles across her back, as she fought to get her body under control. When her breathing finally regulated she realized her gown was wet where Helena’s head was tucked against her back.

She pulled back and smiled up at the military woman lovingly.

“I love you.”

Helena’s sudden declaration, delivered rapid fire and in a high pitched squeak, shocked both of them. She’d never said it before and Laura had resigned herself to the fact that she probably never would. It wasn’t in her nature and she did other things, like what she’d just done, to show rather than speak her feelings.

“About time.”

Laura’s giggles filled the room as Helena leaned down and rested her head carefully on her lover’s chest, the strong heartbeat reassuring her that her own life, for all intents and purposes, wasn’t going to end today.


End file.
